


Unexpected

by NeverAndAlways



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Data/Julian Bashir friendship, Garak/Julian Bashir friendship, Gen, Mpreg, Not Beta Read, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:25:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7435687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverAndAlways/pseuds/NeverAndAlways
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Julian is a bit naïve, Sisko is very much a dad, Kira snarks at everybody, and Garak knows more than he lets on. What else is new?</p><p> </p><p>(Apologies for the lapse in updating; my muse has wandered off somewhere since I finished my last fic. I promise I haven't abandoned this one!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The docking bays are always busy this time of day. People coming and going, all sorts of activity. Today, there are no fewer than ten ships on the schedule.

One of the ships set to depart is a K'barian frigate. Its crew rushes in and out like ants, loading the last of the boxes and crates. One of them, a young male, is standing in the crossover bridge with a human male; a Starfleet officer. A doctor. They're standing with their foreheads together, eyes closed. Another crewman bustles past, and the doctor lifts a hand to cup the K'barian's leathery jaw.

"I should go." says the K'barian in his soft, hissing voice.

The doctor laughs gently. "You've been saying that for ten minutes."

"So you want me to leave, then?"

"I didn't say that. But if you don't go now, you'll be left behind."

"Mm." the K'barian snags a kiss, and they break apart. "See you soon, _Shulian_." two rows of incisors make human words a little tough to pronounce.

"I'm holding you to that promise." another kiss. Then Julian playfully pushes the K'barian away. "Go on."

The last of the crew is boarding the frigate. The K'barian waves back to Julian, then turns and disappears. Julian watches until the airlock slides shut, and then until the ship un-docks and flies away.

He's just about to turn and leave, himself, when he feels a presence behind him.

"Good afternoon, doctor." a smooth reptilian voice speaks up.

"Hello, Garak." Julian turns around and tries to wipe the last of the smile off his face. Garak, in his teal pants and green tunic, stands behind him like he's been there all along. Knowing Garak, he might have been.

"The K'barian...a friend of yours?" he says coolly. He starts to walk, slowly, and Julian unconsciously falls into step.

"His name is Taubal. He and his crew have been staying here for a month or two, and they're headed back to their homeworld."

"You seem fond of him."

Julian's smile comes right back. "It's...it's mutual. When he's finished his trading for this cycle, we're going to meet up again. He might even come to live on the station."

Garak gives him a long, considering look. There's something close to amusement in his expression. "My dear doctor. I do enjoy your company, but you really are terribly naïve."

"Excuse me?"

"K'barians are a notoriously flighty people. I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

"What are you implying?" Julian glares.

"I imply nothing, doctor. I am simply saying that a man of your persuasion should be cautious about getting involved with someone like Taubal."

"A man of my - I'm not sure I like what you're getting at, Garak."

"What I am saying and what you believe I am saying are often two different things, my dear." they descend a flight of stairs and find themselves at the replimat. Garak makes a sweeping gesture. "But all accusations aside, I believe it's time for lunch."

And then he's off before Julian can even answer, talking about goodness knows what as he goes. But arguing with Garak is a lesson in futility. Julian sighs in annoyance, and follows him.

oOo 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment - I'd love to hear from you!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two months later...

"Damn."

Julian stares at his tricorder. He knows what that reading means. Believing it, though...he passes the probe over himself again. The screen flashes: increased estrogen, high levels of progesterone and chorionic gonadotropin.

"Damn." he says again. He shuts the tricorder, stuffs it in his pocket, and heads out of the Infirmary - straight toward Ops.

oOo

"If there's anything I can do to help, Doctor, let me know."

"I will. Thank you, sir."

The doors of Sisko's office slide shut behind Julian. Pausing a moment to breathe, he sets out across Ops to the turbolift.

Jadzia meets his gaze and smiles; she's already been told. The smile is a little dimmed when he returns it.

Into the turbolift, down to the Promenade. Julian is so absorbed in his own thoughts that he doesn't even realize where he's going until he gets there.

"Doctor?"

He looks up. He's in front of Garak's shop. Garak himself is standing just inside, holding a bolt of Andorian fleece.

"Doctor, are you alright?"

"Fine. Just walking." he says, a little too quickly. Garak eyes him knowingly.

"Why don't you come inside, Doctor. There's a new suit I've been meaning to show you." he sets down his bolt of fabric and sweeps Julian into the shop before the doctor can object. Chattering about cuffs and hems and measurements, Garak leads him all the way through - past the suits - to the back room. There, the chatter abruptly stops. He pulls a chair out from behind some drapes. "Sit down before you collapse." his voice is almost gentle.

Julian does as he's told. For a minute he watches as his friend bustles around, arranging this, sorting that. He doesn't speak.

"Now. What happened?" Garak asks from behind a supply shelf.

"What do you mean? Nothing happened."

The Cardassian looks at him askance. "Really, Doctor, don't be obtuse. It doesn't suit you."

Julian sighs. You can't keep secrets from a spy. To his surprise, however, it takes a few tries to actually get the words out. "...I'm pregnant." he manages eventually.

The room is silent. A group of Bolians passes by outside.

"I see." says Garak, emerging from the other end of the shelves. "I was wondering when you would figure that out."

"Well, I only found out a little while ago, and-" Julian's train of thought flies off the rails. "What did you say?"

"I figured you would either notice it on your own or pick it up on a medical scan, but I was beginning to lose faith in your observational skills."

"You knew??"

"Broadly, yes."

"How long?"

Garak picks up a stack of shirts. "Oh, a little while after you began seeing that charming K'barian gentleman."

"That was three months ago!"

"Was it? My, how time flies." he turns his most innocent smile on Julian. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you." Julian puts a hand over his eyes. "I won't even ask how you knew..." he sighs and stands up. "I'm going to my quarters. Lunch tomorrow?"

"Julian-"

"Right, see you then."

And he's gone.

oOo

Pregnant. At barely thirty years old. Really, Bashir, who would have thought?

Padding across his bedroom, the doctor catches sight of his well-loved teddy bear on its shelf. He shakes his head, as though the bear perfectly understands this conundrum.

"What am I going to do, hm?" he asks with a smirk. The bear doesn't answer. He moves on to the bed, where he climbs out of his uniform and retrieves his pajamas from the floor. On the other side of the room, in the full-length mirror, his reflection mimics him. He pauses. There's a slight swell where there didn't used to be. How did he not notice that before? His hands wander down to it. And he feels...happy. Happier than he thought he might.

"Hello in there, little one." he whispers. "Your father will certainly be surprised to hear about you."

Your father...Taubal. He should tell Taubal. As he digs the address padd out of his desk, he finds himself smiling. It'll be good to hear Taubal's voice again.

Julian enters the hailing frequency into the comm. The computer chirps and warbles to itself - these old Cardassian systems often have to think for a bit. He puts on his pajamas in the meantime.

"TRANSMISSION FAILED."

"Oh, come on now." still shirtless, Julian walks back to the comm. "You can do it, I believe in you." someday he'd like to work with a computer that doesn't require so much encouragement to do its job. He enters the frequency again. The computer thinks.

"TRANSMISSION FAILED."

"Cause?"

"UNABLE TO ESTABLISH CONNECTION."

"Alright, be that way." Julian grumbles. He's too tired to argue. "Computer, cancel transmission." he can try again in the morning. He pulls on a nightshirt and climbs into bed. For a moment, he's still. Then he turns over. He ponders. Finally, he gets up, grabs his teddy bear from its shelf, and goes back to bed. Much better. 

"Computer, lights off."

 

oOo 


	3. Chapter 3

'... _by six weeks, the second set of incisors begin to erupt. K'barian infants are born with a rudimentary first set, which fall out and are replaced after the second set emerge._

_At birth, the cranial osteoderms are composed of soft cancellous bone. In cross-species hybrids, these-"_

"Room for one more, Doctor?"

Julian startles; his padd falls with a clatter that attracts some sidelong looks from people at nearby tables.

"...Jadzia."

"That's right. And you're Julian." she smiles her smile. "May I join you?"

"Of course, I - uh-" Julian shuffles his collection of padds around, trying to move them out of the way, but ends up pushing half of them onto the floor instead. Jadzia collects a couple of them as she sits down.

" _Human Fetal Development...Comparative Physiology of Human-K'barian Hybrids_. Doing your homework, Doctor?"

"Just some research." Julian rescues the padds from Jadzia.

"Mm-hm. If you like, I can suggest some good prenatal advice books."

"What?"

"I've been a mother twice; I know what it's like to be pregnant and nervous."

"Shh, Jadzia-!"

"It's alright, I haven't told anyone. But you can't keep it a secret forever, you know."

The doctor sighs. He knows full well; it's been a few weeks, and hiding his condition is already getting more difficult. Damn these uniforms.

"Julian." suddenly serious, Jadzia leans forward. "Does the father know?"

"Well, not exactly. I mean, he...no." Julian draws away. "No, he doesn't."

"If you ask me, he should."

"It's complicated."

"Complicated how?"

He lays one palm on his belly. It's almost an instinct now, despite the fact that he can almost completely cover it with both hands.

"I haven't been able to contact him."

"...I see."

"Garak told me that K'barians are 'a notoriously flighty people'. I thought he was exaggerating, but...turns out he had a point."

"Sounds like it." Jadzia goes quiet. Julian glances up; she's got that look, like Dax itself is staring out at him from behind Jadzia's eyes. Studying him. It's a little creepy. Jadzia returns, still looking thoughtful. "What are you going to do?" she asks gently.

"Well, either I'll see him again or I won't, I suppose." Julian absentmindedly stacks his collection of padds. There's that knot in his stomach again. "I don't know. Honestly, I'm still getting used to being pregnant. I don't think it's hit me quite yet."

"Just wait 'till it starts kicking." says Jadzia with a wry smile. Julian laughs half-heartedly and doesn't quite meet her gaze. Jadzia seems to get the message; she stands up. "I think this is the part where I bow out gracefully and leave you to your research...I'll see you around, Julian." as she passes by his chair, she stops to lay a hand on his shoulder. "If you need someone to talk to, my door is always open."

Julian doesn't pick up his padd again for quite a while.

oOo

Quark's is noisy and riotus. It wouldn't be Quark's, otherwise. The dabo tables, the customers, the Ferengi waiters - it all blends together into a delicious cacophony that you can't find anywhere else on the station.

Julian walks up to the bar. Within moments, there's Quark and his snaggletooth grin.

"Doctor Bashir, what a surprise! I guess we won't be seeing you around here for a while, huh?"

"Now what makes you say that?" he's in too good a mood to be annoyed.

"Good news travels fast. What'll you have?"

"Spinach juice, with a touch of pear."

"Eugh." Quark wrinkles his nose. "Far be it from me to judge, Doctor, but you hew-mons have very strange tastes."

"It's quite good, actually, you'd be surprised."

"I'm sure I would." Quark goes to the replicator.

"I don't suppose you've seen Chief O'Brien around?"

"Back there, in his usual spot." Quark returns, holding the glass rather disdainfully. "Here's your, ah...spinach juice."

Julian nods his thanks and heads off in search of his friend.

Miles O'Brien sits tucked in the only quiet corner of the bar, back behind the dabo tables. A dartboard hangs on the wall there just to fill the space, but no one really uses it except for him and Doctor Bashir. It's become their go-to hangout. He nurses a synthale as he watches the crowd.

"Chief!" Julian winds his way through the hustle and bustle to the table. Miles stands up; they exchange a quick, one-armed hug. "Sorry I'm late, Lieutenant Chapman stopped by again."

"Talked yer ear off, huh?"

"God, do they ever. It's just a constant stream of words."

"Maybe they  _like_ you." Miles waggles his eyebrows conspiratorially.

"Ugh. I hope not. I wouldn't be able to keep up." Julian takes a sip of juice and sets his glass on the table. O'Brien eyes it.

"Julian, what is that?"

"Spinach juice with pear. It's very good."

"It's so **green**."

"Spinach usually is. It's supposed to be good for the baby." he picks up a few darts from the table. "Is it my turn, or yours?"

"Mine, I think."

They play in relative silence for a while. Then Miles speaks up. "How're you feeling, by the way? You must be...what, thirteen weeks?"

"Seventeen. I'm fine." Julian retrieves his darts from he board with perhaps a little more force than necessary.

"...Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's not you."

"But-"

"If I had a bar of latinum for every time someone asked me how I'm feeling, I'd be rich." he punctuates that last word with a dart. It hits the board with a satisfying THUNK. "It's as though people think I'm fragile, just because of this biological process." THUNK. "Everyone's acting so differently around me since the news got out." THUNK. "Even Garak." THUNK. "Even _Quark_." he signs. "I'm just tired of it, that's all."

Miles makes a thoughtful noise and throws a dart of his own. "I guess I can understand that...back on the Enterprise, when Keiko was pregnant with Molly, she was the same way. An' my brother Oisin, when he was having twins, he almost punched a guy fer getting too nosey."

Julian snorts with amusement. "I didn't know you had a brother."

"Two of 'em. Oisin and Sean."

"Are they both carriers?"

"Yeh. Runs in the family. I'm the only one of us who didn't get the gene." 

"Hm." Julian bends to pick up a fallen dart; the movement buckles the fabric over his abdomen and for a moment, his belly is clearly visible. "I'm just the opposite. I was the only carrier in my generation."

"Well, I think you'd like Oisin and Sean. Next time I go for a visit, you should come with me and I'll introduce you. The kids would love to meet you, too." O'Brien smiles fondly. "Sean's little one, Nora, is the sweetest-" the jingle of breaking glass interrupts him. Turning around, he sees Julian standing over a spreading puddle of spinach juice and glass shards. "Didn't like it after all?"

"No, it slipped out of my hands...damn." Julian crouches and begins to pick up the bits of glass.

"Here, let me." Miles stoops to help. They make a strange picture: two grown men crouched on the floor, picking through a puddle of juice. "Look at it this way-" he smirks. "saves you from having to drink it." he picks out a couple more shards before realizing Julian has gone quiet. The joke wasn't that bad, was it? "Julian?" he looks up at his friend. The doctor is sitting very still with one hand on his belly, staring just past Miles' shoulder. "You okay?"

"Something's wrong."

"What do you mean?"

"...I don't know." he stands up slowly. His hand moves to cradle his belly. He's gone pale; all his attention seems to be focused inward. "I'm going to the Infirmary."

"Julian, why don't you sit down-"

The doctor doesn't even seem to hear; he's halfway to the door already. He says something that Miles can't quite catch, and then the Promenade crowd swallows him up and he disappears.

oOo 


	4. Chapter 4

Pain. Right below his navel, right where it shouldn't be. Julian walks across the Promenade as fast as his legs will take him. He's scared to death. Didn't think he would be. He was just getting used to the idea of being pregnant, and now - no. Don't think about it.

He climbs one flight of stairs, then another. There must be something in his expression; a group of Andorians practically jumps out of his way. His head is buzzing with possibilities that he doesn't want to even consider, but can't quite help bringing up. Always the diagnostician.

Into the Infirmary. The on-duty nurses don't say a word as he blows through into the surgery. First, a tricorder - he passes the probe over himself a little hurriedly. Well, hormone levels rising steadily, but that doesn't mean much. He presses a few buttons; the tricorder beeps obligingly. Then he makes another pass with the probe. And this time, from the tricorder comes a different sound: a rapid _whoosh-whoosh-whoosh_ like a replicator in overdrive. He smiles.

"There you are." a flood of relief washes through him. He lets it out in a sigh. "Don't scare me like that, sweetheart."

Sweetheart?

The heartbeat echoes through the room. Julian listens for a bit before turning it off. It's a relief, but it's not really an answer. The tricorder readings, now that he really looks at them, don't seem to show anything out of the ordinary. So where's this pain coming from?

"Doctor?"

He turns around. A nurse is peering through the doorway; he closes the tricorder.

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"Is...everything okay?"

Julian puts the tricorder and hoists a smile. "Everything's fine, Lieutenant. Thank you."

The nurse gives him a nervous smile and disappears. He heaves a sigh. Is he that obvious? Good lord, he's already becoming one of those over-anxious parents. Like Vilix'pran at his last budding.

Feeling more than a little silly, Julian wanders out of the Infirmary.

oOo

That evening, in his quarters, Julian sits wrapped in a blanket on his narrow couch. His teddy bear is keeping him company; he strokes its fur as he watches his comm screen. Or tries not to watch. It's his parents up there, and even though it's a recorded message, he can almost feel them staring him down. Makes him feel like a kid.

"...especially if this...Taubal, was it? Especially if he's disappeared like you said." his mother shakes her head. "I'm disappointed in you, Jules. I thought we raised you to be responsible, not to go running off with every pretty face that catches your eye."

"It's _Julian_ , mother." he mutters at the screen. And apparently one mistake means he's just all-around promiscuous. I love you too, mother.

His father speaks up. "You said you're going to go through with this...I know we can't change your mind. And we won't try to. But I will ask one thi-"

The door chirps, making him jump. "Computer, pause transmission." an obliging beep. He unwraps himself from the blanket and pads to the door. When it slides open, he's met with a familiar face.

"Chief?"

O'Brien stands in the hallway. His expression is reminiscent of a dog who's been caught doing something he shouldn't. "Hi, Julian." he tries to sound nonchalant, and largely fails.

"Is...something the matter?" it's 2100 hours; a little late for visits.

"Not exactly. I just thought...well, when you disappeared from Quark's and you didn't come back, I thought there really was something wrong. So I came to check on you."

Julian smiles. "That's kind of you, Chief." he turns and beckons. "Come on in."

The door slides shut behind them. "I hope I'm not interrupting," says O'Brien when he catches sight of the screen.

"Not at all." Julian heads for the replicator. "It's a transmission from my parents. I sent them the big news yesterday...tea, Bajoran red leaf." he turns to Miles. "Want anything?"

"Thanks, I'm fine." O'Brien studies the screen. "They must be happy for you."

"Not as much as you might think."

He makes a thoughtful noise. "But you are doing alright?"

"I suppose so. Subjected myself to a whole litany of scans, and I can't see anything wrong. I feel a bit stupid." Julian wanders back to the couch, where his friend has already planted himself, and sits down. His tea steams gently. "I hope I'm not becoming one of those nervous parents-to-be."

"Eh, it's your first. You're allowed to be nervous."

"You say that as though there's going to be more."

"You never know."

Julian shakes his head and takes a sip of tea. The room is quiet.

"I, uh...I can go, if you want to finish your transmission-" Miles begins.

"No, no. Actually, I'd appreciate your company. That is, if you don't mind hearing my parents lecture me."

"It's that bad, is it?"

Julian makes a face. "Computer, resume transmission."

"-ng: that you come home. Your mother and I have talked about this a great deal since we got your message; whether or not we approve of your decision to have this baby, you are our son. And it is our grandchild."

His mother chimes in. "And being on a station so close to that wormhole, not to mention Cardassian space, you could be putting yourself and your little one at risk." Julian arches an eyebrow. "Please come home, Jules."

"Jules?" O'Brien echoes in disbelief.

"Don't ask."

"...and we hope to hear from you soon."

The screen blinks and goes dark. Miles sighs.

"You weren't kidding."

"Now you know why I don't visit Earth very often." one hand grazes his belly.

"At least they care enough to be concerned."

"I suppose...I can never be sure with them. For all I know, they might just see this as another way to control me."

His friend gives him a long look. He reaches out, gently picks up the teddy bear, and strokes its ears while he considers his next words. Julian's hands twitch in his lap; even as a grown man, that bear is awfully important to him.

"The way I see it..." Miles says slowly, "they might be your parents, but they can't tell you what to do anymore. And this is your baby. So it's your decision."

Julian pauses a moment in thought. He rescues the bear from Miles' hands. "Did you really come all the way over here just to tell me that, Chief?" he smiles, gently teasing.

"Nah." O'Brien shrugs. "Actually, I really came to ask if you'd be up for another dart game tomorrow." he gives Julian a sly grin. "Since you forfeited your turn, I technically won."

Now Julian really laughs. Things are normal again for a moment.

"You're on."

oOo


	5. Chapter 5

"Anyone home?"

"Be with you in a minute."

It's 0700. The Promenade is still closed and dark and even Morn isn't up yet; only the Infirmary is open. Major Kira stands just inside the entrance, having only just returned from her latest away mission. She's muddy, she's sore, and there's a shiny-red burn reaching across her left hand and wrist. Her other hand fidgets with her earring chain.

"Sorry for the wait; just organising a bit." Dr. Bashir emerges from the surgical suite, chipper as always, and for once Kira's genuinely glad to see him. Apparently it's mutual: he grins when he catches sight of her. "Major Kira, what a surprise! I thought you weren't due back till next week!"

"It is next week, Doctor. Stardate 42858.3, remember?"

"Oh. So it is. Well, regardless, welcome back. Was there something you needed, or are you just stopping by?"

Kira rolls up her sleeve and wordlessly extends her burned arm. The doctor hisses through his teeth. "That looks nasty. Come on back, I'll see what I can do."

Kira slings her bag over her shoulder and follows him to a biobed, where she sits down to wait as he bustles around. There's something different about him, but she can't quite put her finger on it...

"So, how was your trip? You were in Kendra Province, right?"

"Hendrikspool." not even close, Doctor.

"Right, of course. And Rezkuhl agreed to the negotiations?" Bashir returns to the biobed with a medical tricorder and runs it over her hand.

"Eventually. Once she'd argued over every single line." Kira looks the doctor up and down.

"I hope that's not how you got this." he picks up a dermal regenerator and holds it against her wrist. She winces a little.

"What, the burn? No, she has a pet vlyss-dragon. I got a little too close."

"Well in any case, you're lucky. That sort of venom is extremely caustic, but this burn doesn't look too deep." he moves the regenerator up and down Kira's wrist as though painting it. The instrument's warbling fills the quiet Infirmary.

Suddenly Kira pushes it away. "Alright, I have to ask: you're pregnant, aren't you."

Julian blinks a few times, clearly taken aback. Then he laughs. "I'm sorry, I almost forgot you'd been away...yes, I am. Twenty weeks, to be exact."

Now it's Kira's turn to laugh. "Good god, I leave for a couple months and everyone turns up pregnant - first Vilix'pran, then Ensign Tanaka, and now _you..._! There must be something in the replicators, I'd better be careful."

"I don't know about **that**...but I hadn't heard about Ensign Tanaka, I might have to pay her a visit..." Julian takes Kira's hand again, just firmly enough that she can't pull away, and goes back to work with the regenerator. The burn gradually begins to fade from angry, blister-y red to a more normal color.

"I never would have pictured you as a fatherly type, Doctor." Kira continues. "I mean, you of all people."

"Neither would I, Major." says Julian quietly. There's an awful lot of meaning behind those words. Kira takes the hint; she goes quiet and picks half-heartedly at some dried mud on her uniform.

"There. Good as new." Julian switches off the regenerator. "Just go easy on it for a day or two, and try to stay away from vlyss-dragons."

"Will do. Thank you, Doctor." Kira climbs down from the biobed, picks up her bag, and heads for the door. Halfway there, she pauses.

"And, uh...congratulations."

oOo

Julian is muttering to himself. Came back to his quarters to get something, and now he can't find it. Figures.

"Come on now, where in blazes could you have gone??" he hisses, rummaging through a stack of padds. "Brought the file back here to study, then put it here..." now he crouches to look under the desk. "Think, Julian, where did you - oh...!" his hand goes to his belly. It really is a belly now; there's no uniform that can hide it anymore. And the baby's started kicking, too. Right now it seems it's trying to get a message across. One fluttering kick, then another. Julian smirks. "Alright, I'm sorry. I'll calm down."

Getting to his feet takes some effort. Once he's vertical, he sighs and looks around. His hand is still on his belly, and he glances down at it. "Better now?" he asks with a smile. There are no further kicks, which he takes to be a yes. "Good. Now where did I..."

A distinctive _whoosh_  catches his attention. Was that-? He turns. "Hello?"

"It's just me, Doctor."

That voice is distinctive, too. Cool and reptilian and not necessarily welcome if it's uninvited. Julian strides out into the main room. "Garak, what are you doing here?"

The Cardassian smiles, completely unperturbed. "You neglected to show up at the replimat, so I came to collect you."

"You could have just called."

"This was more effective."

Julian sputters. "But don't - you can't just stroll into my quarters unannounced!"

"Clearly, I can. Perhaps you should invest in a new lock." Garak says almost pleasantly.

"Garak-"

"At any rate, we're here now. Shall we?"

Julian just sighs. That's all you can do, with Garak. "There's something I have to find first."

"Can I be of help?"

"You've done enough. Why don't you just...have a seat, make yourself comfortable. I'll only be a minute." Julian goes back to rummaging around while Garak settles onto the couch.

"Are you looking for anything in particular, or just rearranging?" he asks as a vase nearly topples off its shelf.

"A data padd. It contains an article i was studying, I need to take it back to the Infirmary." Julian returns the vase to its spot.

"There's padd on the bookshelf behind you." Garak points.

"No, I looked at that one, it's-" Julian picks up the padd, glances at it, and trails off. He purses his lips in annoyance. Then, without saying a word, he walks to the door, picks up his messenger bag, and slips the padd inside. There might have been a muttered 'thank you' somewhere, too.

Garak smirks and stands up. "Ready?"

Julian nods, and they file out into the corridor. They walk for a few minutes in companionable silence, then Garak - as always - is the first to speak.

"You're, ah...you're looking well, Doctor. Although with the rate your condition is progressing, that uniform is in dire need of alterations..."

"Mm."

Garak shoots him a considering look. "How are you feeling?" he asks, as though unfamiliar with the words. "I understand human pregnancies can be very physically taxing, but you barely look fatigued."

"Believe me, I look better than I feel." Julian sighs. "It's only been kicking for a week or so, and I'm already losing sleep." he gives Garak a half-smile. "Actually, I'd rather not talk about it right now, if it's all the same to you."

"Of course. My apologies."

The replimat is swarming with patrons by the time they arrive. They order their lunch from the replicator (soup for Garak, a plate of hasperat for Julian) and manage to find an empty table near the back.

They sit. They eat. And for the first time in quite a while, they don't really speak. Instead they people-watch as new arrivals come in from the docking bays. Occasionally, one or the other comments on a well-tailored outfit or interesting headdress, or the way a couple squabbles as they walk. It's a nice change from their usual debates.

And then, after what seems like far too short a time, Julian's combadge chirps.

'Sisko to all senior officers, please report to Ops.'

He sighs and puts down his half-eaten hasperat.

"On my way." he says, and gets to his feet.

"No rest for the wicked." says Garak.

"Something like that. Same time tomorrow - and this time, call before you come waltzing into my quarters."

Garak smiles that reptilian smile again, with a glint in his eye that, for an instant, reminds Julian exactly who and what he's befriended. Certainly not a plain and simple tailor.

"I make no promises, Doctor."

oOo


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! So sorry for the long wait; I kinda lost my motivation on this story for a while. And college caught up with me. But I'm back now, hopefully with a more regular updating schedule!

Julian doesn't show up for lunch the next day. Or the day after that. Garak goes to his friend's quarters - against his better judgement - and finds only a note, which first scolds him for letting himself in again and then explains the doctor's absence. A last-minute conference of some sort, apparently.

 _Nice of him to tell me first,_ thinks Garak, a little sourly. He heads back to the Promenade.

 

-

 

"Cardassian."

Garak turns around from his worktable, where he's adding darts to a skirt. A K'barian man is striding into the shop. Something about him puts Garak's instincts on alert. He makes a quick mental note of the dagger tucked into his sewing box, and puts on a smile.

"Can I help you, sir?"

The K'barian doesn't wait for Garak to come to the front desk; he walks right up to the worktable. His crests are fired green and orange with impatience.

"You know _Shulian_ Bashir."

That one takes Garak by surprise. "Whom?"

"Sh...shj-" it takes him a few tries. Both rows of incisors stick out. "Shjulian. This station's doctor. You know him?"

Garak shrugs. "I know the name. But Deep Space Nine is a very large station; I'm not familiar with each-"

"You are lying." the K'barian plants his hands on the table, his expression suddenly flinty. Garak stares back, unwavering.

"And you have neglected to provide a reason for this little visit." he says mildly. "Tell me that, and I might be inclined to give you more information."

The K'barian is silent for a moment, weighing his options. He narrows his eyes. "Shjulian has a debt he owes to me. If he does not pay it, there will be a consequence. I came to find him. He is not here. Where is he?"

Garak calmly threads a needle and begins to sew up the hem. "What makes you think I would know his whereabouts?"

"I saw you with him. You are his friend." the man leans toward Garak, sneering to put all his incisors on display. There's a flash of something in his expression that Garak decides he doesn't like at all. "Where. Is. He?"

"I think I'd rather not tell you."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like your tone. Doctor Bashir is a good man, and whatever he has or has not done, I won't have you or anyone else threatening him." Garak puts down his needle and draws the dagger from his sewing box. He holds it loosely, almost nonchalantly, angled just so the K'barian can see how sharp its edge is. And he smiles. "Now please get out of my shop."

The K'barian doesn't argue. He retraces his steps to the entrance, keeping an eye on Garak the whole time.

"And one more thing," Garak says conversationally. "up until now, I have been nice. But if you harm Doctor Bashir in any way, I will know. And I will find you. And I will _not_ be nice then." somehow he makes the word sound like a threat all on its own. "Do I make myself clear?"

The K'barian's gray eyes look him up and down with thinly-veiled disdain. "Yes, sir." he drags out the 's's.

As the K'barian saunters away across the Promenade, Garak spins the dagger idly in his hands. Only when the man disappears into a crowd does Garak head back to his worktable. He shakes his head as he goes.

Julian, what have you gotten yourself into?

 

oOo


	7. Chapter 7

A week passes. The K'barian doesn't come to the shop again, although Garak sees him skulking around the Promenade once or twice. Incidentally, Garak's started wearing his dagger on his belt.

He can't stop thinking about that encounter. What sort of debt could Julian possibly owe? The doctor might be naïve, but he can't be stupid enough to get involved in black market dealings, can he? Garak has learned not to make assumptions when it comes to Julian, but one can hope. He needs more information. K'barians play their cards too close to their chest; he won't get much by asking directly. But there is one person on this station who will definitely know.

-

When the last customers have left the Promenade, Garak takes his time closing up the shop. He brings the mannequins into his workroom, takes down the displays and carefully puts them away, and turns off the lights one by one. Then he switches on the force field at the door and strolls away.

Quark's is nearly empty. Only a handful of patrons remain, lingering at a table in the back. Rom is over by the dabo tables. And Quark himself is at the bar, organizing something or other. Garak ambles over, and tries not to look too pleased when Quark startles at the sight of him.

"Mister Garak!" Quark puts on his signature toothy smile. "We're just closing up, but I can get you something to go. What'll you have? We just got a shipment of kanar."

"I'm not here for a drink, actually." Garak slides into a seat. "I need information."

Quark arches an eyebrow. "And what makes you think I have any?"

"Because," Garak gives him a pleasant smile, "I have latinum."

Both eyebrows go up. "Well, in that case, ask away."

Garak leans his elbows on the bar and is suddenly serious. He cuts right to the chase. "What do you know about the K'barian population in this system?"

"K'barians?" Quark whistles. "That's a name I haven't heard in a while...last I heard, it was pretty quiet. Why? You haven't gotten involved with them, have you?"

"Cardassians don't 'get involved' with K'barians if we can help it. They're the Romulans to our Vulcans. I'm asking for a friend."

Quark crouches behind the bar for a moment. When he stands up, holding a decanter in one hand and a large bottle in the other, his expression is thoughtful. "Doctor Bashir, huh?" Garak hesitates a fraction of a second at this, and Quark smirks. "I'm in here all day, Mister Garak. I hear things. And Dr. Bashir likes to talk. Besides, his, uh...his condition is a hard secret to keep."

"Mm."

"Actually, I have seen his friend a few times. Doesn't drink, but spends a lot of time - and latinum - at the dabo tables."

"And what does he say?"

"He's a smuggler. Which, ordinarily, I can appreciate, but he's even less above-board than most." Quark pours some liquid from the bottle to the decanter, eyes it, and adds some more. Then he puts the bottle away.

"Black market?" asks Garak.

"And then some. So whatever he's been telling Dr. Bashir, it probably isn't true."

Garak makes a thoughtful sound. He doesn't say anything for a minute or two, and Quark doesn't push him. Rom bustles by with his usual cheerful greeting.

"He said Dr. Bashir owed him a debt." Garak muses. "I don't suppose you know anything about that?"

"No, but you might want to warn the doctor. Before he comes back, even." Quark takes a rag from the sink and begins to wipe down the counter. "Whatever it is, it can't be good." then he turns another smirk on Garak. "But that's all the information I can give for now. I'm afraid we're closed." with that, he holds out his free hand. "I believe you said something about latinum?"

-

The shop bell rings.

Garak startles and drops his seam-ripper, which clatters to the floor and escapes under the table. He chides himself quietly as he stoops to pick it up.

"I'll be right with you!" he calls. It's not often that he gets so deeply into his work...you can't let your guard down like that, Elim. Even here. Especially here.

He bustles out to the front of the shop. "Terribly sorry. What can I do for you?"

The customer doesn't answer. They just lean on the counter and smile, and it takes Garak longer than it should to recognize them. Then, despite himself, he smiles too.

"Hello, Garak." Julian walks around behind the counter. Cardassians don't do hugs, so they shake hands instead.

"I was beginning to think I might not see you again, doctor..!" Garak teases.

"Well, sorry to disappoint you. I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"There are far worse fates, I'm sure." Garak turns and beckons to his friend. "I was about to have some tea; would you care to join me?"

Garak leads the doctor back into the workroom. He pulls out a chair, then goes over to the replicator while Julian gets settled. When he comes back, Julian is slouched a bit, both hands resting on the highest curve of his belly. He thanks Garak for the tea, and then rests it there as well.

"How was your away mission?" Garak tries to sound casual.

"Confidential, I'm afraid." Julian shrugs and takes a sip of tea. "But I think it went well."

"You think?" another shrug; Julian looks rather tired. Garak presses on. There's really no good way to segue into this, but it needs to be said. "Actually...there's something I really ought to tell you."

Julia looks up from his tea. He looks intrigued for a moment, before it turns into suspicion. "Garak, what have you done?"

Garak smirks. "Really doctor, why do you always assume it was me?"

"Because I know you. Mister 'plain and simple tailor'."

Can't argue with that. He's learning, at least. "Fair enough...but no, it wasn't me. This time." Garak shoots him a sly look over the edge of his teacup. Then he puts it down and turns serious again. "While you were gone, I had a very interesting visit from an acquaintance of yours."

"Oh?"

"A K'barian man. Quite handsome, although his taste in clothing leaves a lot to be desired."

Julian's eyes widen. "Taubal?" Garak nods. "When? What did he say? Is he alright?"

"He seemed fine. But, Julian-" he waits until he has the doctor's full attention. "Has he ever told you exactly _what_ he trades in?"

"No, it never really came up. Why?"

"Well, ah...I've been asking around. I'm afraid he might not be entirely what he seems. I have it on good authority that he's part of a smuggling ring, among other things."

"'Asking around'? Garak, I know how you feel about Taubal, but digging up gossip about someone just because you don't like them is in very poor taste." Julian's expression turns suddenly flinty.

"I'm not that petty." says Garak, equally flinty. "I'm telling you this because you're my only friend on this station and believe it or not, I care about you. I'm trying to keep you from landing yourself in serious trouble."

Julian shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. Eventually he looks up, but only to glare at his friend. "I can understand that, but I'm not going to end my relationship just because of hearsay. I've got a baby on the way. That's my first priority. And you might be my friend, but frankly, I don't trust you. At all. So whatever you think you know about Taubal, you can keep it to yourself. I don't need you to take care of me." he gulps down the rest of his tea, sets the cup on the counter, and gets to his feet. "Thank you for the tea. I have to report to Captain Sisko." he says coldly, and stalks out of the shop.

Once Julian is out of earshot, Garak lets out a stream of every Cardassian curse he can think of, and a few more besides.

His friend really is an idiot.

 

oOo 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm curious: how do you guys pronounce Taubal's name?

Julian lies propped up on his bed, staring up at the bedroom ceiling. He's angry. But at whom? Himself? Garak? Taubal? He wantsto be angry at Garak, but experience tells him that's Sisyphean...and he doesn't even know if he  _should_ be angry at Taubal. So he settles for just plain angry.

For a while, he just lies there and stews in it. It's not productive. He knows that. But it's satisfying, and he doesn't know what else to do. A smuggling ring...for fuck's sake _._ Who does Garak think he is? Taubal is a _merchant_.

...Isn't he?

Julian sits up. At first, he hesitates. "Computer, is there any biographical information on record for Ys Taubal?"

The computer warbles for a few seconds while it thinks. "YS TAUBAL; K'BARIAN. AGE, THIRTY-TWO TERRAN YEARS. AFFILIATED WITH THE GREAT K'BARIAN MOOT, THE BAJORAN PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT, AND THE FERENGI ALLIANCE."

"What is his profession?"

"LISTED PROFESSION: MERCHANT."

Of course. Julian can't help but smirk a little bit.

"What was his last transaction?"

"UNKNOWN."

Well, that's not too unusual. Maybe it's not recorded. Julian leans back again. The baby kicks, as though sensing his irritation; he rubs his belly absentmindedly. "Settle down, it's alright." he mutters. "Garak knows when to leave well enough alone." he sighs as deeply as he's able. "Computer, what time is it?"

"THE TIME IS 1900 HOURS."

Perfect. He's off-duty until tomorrow morning; that leaves the rest of the evening free. Just a few months ago, that would have meant going straight to Quark's for an evening playing darts with Miles. Now, all he wants to do is catch up on some sleep. He adjusts a pillow or two, lies back and shuts his eyes...

"Major Kira to Doctor Bashir."

...Oh, for crying out loud. Julian grabs his comm badge from the nightstand. "Go ahead, Major."

"Sorry to bother you, Doctor, but I'm at the docking ring right now and, ah...I think you have a visitor."

 _So much for a peaceful evening._ He climbs out of bed and reaches for his uniform. "Thank you, Major. I'm on my way."

 

* * *

 

 

The docking ring seems busier than usual. Julian has to wade through several crowds of official-looking people and aliens before he finds Major Kira. She has her back to him when he reaches her; she's talking to someone, and her body language is tense.

"...again, sir, I couldn't answer that the first ten times, and I can't answer this time either."

"Well why did you bring it up, then, hm?"

"You're the one who asked me, sir."

"Just making sure you were paying attention, hm, hm. And you  _weren't_."

Oh no. He recognizes those voices. He's tempted to just turn around and go back to his quarters, but it's too late. He's been spotted. He strides up next to Major Kira.

"Doctor. Thank god." Kira sighs. She turns and makes a small bow to their visitors. "It was lovely to meet you all, but I have to get back to Ops. Enjoy your evening." she says, then turns on her heel and hurries away.

"Doctor Bashir. Good evening." a middle-aged woman with short blonde hair steps out of the airlock.

"Doctor Loews," he steps forward to shake her hand. "what a surprise."

"Yes, I'm sorry to just drop by unannounced; I'm going to a conference on Betazed, and...well, they go wherever I do. When they heard we were stopping over at DS9, they insisted on visiting."

Julian turns his attention to the four figures clustered around her. "Hello."

Jack steps forward first. "You don't seem very happy to see us," he says accusingly.

"Of course I am, it's just that I wasn't--"

Lauren interrupts him. "People are rarely happy to see you, Jack."

Jack shoots her a glare and snaps, "I could say the same for you."

Now Patrick steps in, ignoring the other two. "You're having a baby!" he sounds overjoyed.

All eyes turn to Julian. His face burns. Somehow he puts on a smile, albeit a small one. "Yes, I am."

"Well, well," Lauren smiles like a cat. "I suppose congratulations are in order. It seems the good doctor does have a romantic life, after all."

"Lauren," Dr. Loews warns. Lauren ignores her.

"So who's the father, Julian?"

"I bet it's that engineer, hm," says Jack. "The dopey one who's always hanging around."

"You mean the cute one," says Lauren. Jack rolls his eyes.

"Miles is a  _friend_ ," Julian sighs. "And besides, he's married."

"So?"

"Alright, you two, that's enough." Dr. Loews steps in with the air of a beleaguered parent. "Let's go find your quarters; we can talk more later. Sarina, Patrick, stay with us, please..."

Julian tags along as Dr. Loews steers her charges down the corridor toward the habitat ring. In some back corner of his mind, a sullen little voice mutters that he could have been relaxing right now...he pushes it aside. At least his evening won't be boring.

 

* * *

 

 

Jack, Lauren, Sarina, and Patrick are staying in the ambassadorial quarters, in the upper section of the habitat ring. It's the only guest quarters large enough to house all four of them. Jack makes a show of complaining about it: the lights are too bright, it's too cold, it's too quiet, whatever else he can think of, for a good fifteen minutes until he gets bored. Then he wanders away to bury his nose in some data padds he brought ("top-secret" is all he'll say about them). Lauren and Patrick stay with Julian.

Patrick hovers like an excited kid full of questions. He wants to know everything that's been going on at DS9 since they last visited. What's the Dominion been up to? Has he seen any Jem-Hadar? Have any Cardassians visited the station? What about Romulans? Gul Dukat?

"Leave the poor boy alone, Patrick," purrs Lauren, draped across the sofa. "You ask too many questions."

Patrick's lip quivers. "But--"

"It's alright," Julian soothes. "I don't mind." Sarina pads up to him and stares in his general direction. "Hello, Sarina. Did you need something?"

She pads away again. Lauren watches her go. In his corner, curled up with his collection of pads, Jack watches all three of them. When Sarina wanders into the other room, Lauren turns back to Julian.

"So, Julian." she stretches languidly, crossing her long legs and pillowing her hands behind her head.

"Yes?"

"What's the story?"

He sighs. "There isn't one."

"Of course there is. Nice Starfleet boys like you don't just turn up pregnant." Julian frowns. Lauren stares right back. "If you don't tell us, we'll start guessing."

"It  _was_ that engineer, wasn't it." says Jack from his corner.

"For the last time, Jack, no."

"Then who was it?" Lauren looks positively smug. 

"Are they a mutant too?" asks Patrick.

Julian sighs again. They aren't going to leave him alone until they get an answer. "No, he isn't a mutant. And _no_ , it wasn't Chief O'Brien." Patrick looks vaguely crestfallen; Jack isn't convinced. Julian continues. "He's a K'barian merchant, his name is Taubal. Happy?"

"A K'barian!" says Patrick wonderingly. His moods really do change on a dime. "What does he look like? Is he nice?"

Now Julian smirks. "I'd like to think so." he picks himself up and walks to the computer terminal. After giving a few instructions (quietly, just in case), he beckons to Patrick. "This is him."

Patrick trundles over to him. For several seconds, he looks with interest at the picture on the screen, studying it like a detective examining a piece of evidence. Then, to Julian's surprise, his face falls into a disapproving scowl. "I don't like him."

This catches Julian by surprise, enough to make him laugh. "What do you mean?"

But Patrick doesn't elaborate further. Just shakes his head and scowls more and repeats, "I don't like him."

"Let me see," says Lauren, flowing upright from the sofa. She glides over to Julian and fixes the screen with a considering gaze. Her lips quirk down; not quite a sneer, but close to it. She turns a half-pitying look on Julian. "You could do better." then she reaches out to touch his belly. Instinctively, he tries to bat her hand away.

"Please don't--"

"Alright, you four." Dr. Loews steps into the room, interrupting the moment. Jack, Lauren, and Patrick all look toward her. "We've got an early start tomorrow, so we all need to get some sleep." Patrick whines. "Patrick, none of that, please." she holds out a hand. "Come on. Say goodbye to Dr. Bashir, then it's time for bed."

Patrick turns misty eyes on Julian and says a very wobbly "goodbye".

"Goodbye, Patrick. It was very nice to see you again. You too, Lauren." he smiles to both of them.

"Next time we see you, I suppose you'll have a mini-Julian tagging along," Lauren smirks.

"I suppose so." Jack sneaks past with his armful of padds and a sideways glance.

"Just what the galaxy needs, hm," he sniffs, "more mutants."

"It was nice to see you too, Jack."

Jack scoffs and ambles away, with Sarina following dazedly behind him.

Once all four of them have disappeared into their quarters, Julian turns to leave. But just as he reaches the door, he hears Dr. Loews say his name. He turns around.

"I feel like I should apologize for dropping in unannounced," she says with a sheepish smile.

"That's alright. You saved me from a very boring evening."

She laughs. It's bitter around the edges. "Well, they are anything but boring."

Julian nods. Suddenly he's very tired. "Best of luck with your conference, Doctor."

"Thank you."

Julian turns to leave. The door swishes open.

"Oh, and Julian--"

"Hm?"

"Congratulations on the little one, by the way. I think you'll make an excellent father."

He smiles. "Goodnight, Dr. Loews."

 

* * *

 

 

Back in his quarters, it's 2230 hours. He changes slowly back into his pajamas, grabs a cup of tea and some padds he's been meaning to work on -- and his teddy bear, on second thought -- and climbs into bed. And lies there. Not sleeping, not working. The knot of annoyance in his stomach is even tighter now, and he has more questions than he started with. Jack doesn't like anyone, that doesn't bother him. But Patrick? And Lauren? If even Lauren doesn't like Taubal, then what is  _he_ missing?

Of course, they've been wrong before. They could very well be wrong this time.

But what if they aren't?

Julian heaves a sigh and takes a drink of tea. It's gone cold. The baby aims a punch just below his navel; he rubs the spot.

"I know. I feel the same way," he says absently. "We'll figure it out."

Eventually. 

 

oOo


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An artist friend of mine was nice enough to do some sketches of Taubal (and some random K'barians), and I thought you guys might like to see them. :)
> 
> (Also -- the next chapter will be up soon, so keep your eyes peeled!)

[I can't get the embedding to cooperate, so here's a link to imgur](https://imgur.com/yrmHH1M)


	10. Chapter 10

" _Dabo!"_

Third time in fifteen minutes. That Benzite's cheating.

From his perch at the top of the stairs, Taubal can see almost directly down onto the  _dabo_ table. As the Benzite leans over to spin the wheel again, they clip a small something to its underside. A magnet, probably. Clever.

A Klingon steps up to the  _dabo_ table, blocking Taubal's view; he lets his gaze wander elsewhere. He drums his fingers on the table a moment, then reaches for a padd. Skimming through his inventory for the umpteenth time, the words barely register. He could recite them in his sleep by now. A shipment of Terran wheatflour; ten barrels of Rigelian silk-berries; 200 pounds of xetrite; one slab of _ekkerine_ salt; five crates of disruptors, plus a dampening field generator just in case; one plasma intercooler; three deuterium cartridges and one antimatter injector, et cetera, et cetera...he'll be making quite a profit from this run, if his last supplier ever shows up.

Speaking of which...Taubal flags down a passing Ferengi waiter and asks for the time. It's 1500; that's twenty minutes behind schedule. He sighs in annoyance as the waiter bustles away. If she doesn't get here soon, he might just have to --

"What's a handsome male like you doing in a place like this?"

A young woman of indeterminate species sidles up to his table. _Finally._ Taubal smiles and stands up to meet her.

"Waiting for you. I started to think I would not see you." he puts an arm around her waist and draws her into a kiss, then rests their foreheads together briefly. "I missed you, Yadin."

"Mm. I should hope so." she snags another kiss and slips a padd into his free hand. He pulls away to read it.

ONE (1) CASE, DISRUPTOR RIFLES

FIVE HUNDRED (500) POUNDS, KEMOCITE

"Fourteen crates of stem-bolts, just like you ordered," Yadin says, just loud enough for passers-by to overhear. "I'm in Docking Bay 1, my crew is unloading them now."

Taubal gestures grandly to the door. "Let us go, then."

He and Yadin thread their way through the crowd and out to the Promenade. Yadin looks around.

"Nice place," she remarks. When Taubal nods but doesn't answer, she pries further: "I thought you had rejoined the Moot?" now Taubal gives her a sidelong look. A very chilly one.

"They decided again. They do not want me."

She raises her eyebrows. "You were--?"

"Mm."

"How long?"

"Permanently. I am not to contact them again."

They walk in silence for a few dozen steps. Then Yadin asks, "So now what?"

Taubal smirks. "I have plans."

The pair step into a turbolift. Yadin gives it their destination, and it whirs into motion. Taubal turns to her and lights a feathery kiss on her neck; she doesn't reciprocate, but she smiles. They step out of the turbolift a moment later, right into a gaggle of engineers, which they have to thread their way through with with lots of 'excuse me's and a few well-aimed elbows. Once through, they start to make a beeline for the docking bay. They're already late as it is.

As they approach the doors, Taubal suddenly lowers his crests so they lay almost flush with his cheekbones: a sign of deference. He puts on a slightly strained smile as well.

"Good afternoon, Constable," he calls out. Odo steps out from behind a pillar and nonchalantly puts himself between them and the docking bay. They can see Yadin's ship just past the doors.

"Good afternoon," Odo says mildly. He gestures behind him. "Does this ship belong to either of you?"

"It belongs to me, sir," Yadin takes a step forward. "The  _Arden."_

"Hm. I don't recall seeing it on the schedule for today. Do you have documentation?" Odo's blue eyes bore into them.

"Yes, sir. I have the inventory here." Yadin smoothly produces a padd and hands it to Odo. Taubal bristles slightly, but there doesn't seem to be anything out of the ordinary. Odo scans the padd with a thoughtful gaze. "It also contains the itinerary and flight plan," she adds.

Odo reads over the padd's contents twice, taking just long enough to make them both a little nervous. But at last he looks up, eyes them both, and hands it back. "Everything seems to be in order," he grumbles. He almost sounds disappointed. Yadin pockets the padd with a respectful nod.

"Good afternoon, constable."

"Hmm."

On to the docking bay. Taubal keeps his crests folded until they're well out of sight and earshot, and then shudders as though he's smelled something bad. Yadin elbows him and teases, "Since when do you show deference to anyone,  _captain?_ _"_

Taubal hunches his shoulders. "Since this station's security chief is an  _ur'ult_ ," he hisses, spitting the word past his incisors. Yadin's eyes widen. She looks over her shoulder.

" _A changeling? In the Alpha quadrant?"_  she whispers back. Taubal gives her a single nod. "Does he know?"

"No. And it will stay that way." with that, Taubal trots up the gangplank and disappears into the ship. Yadin stands for a moment in the middle of the bay, as though pondering. Then she shakes it off -- whatever it was -- and follows him.

 

* * *

 

Some hours later, the cargo is loaded, and Yadin is ready to leave. Ready, but not quite willing...she and Taubal are lingering in the docking bay, wrapped up in each other.

"Where are you going next?" Yadin murmurs.

"I don't know," Taubal shrugs. "I might stay here for a while."

Yadin smirks. "Thinking of settling?"

He frowns. "Of course not. I only stay for a short time."

"So what's caught your attention here?"

"I have found someone." he speaks slowly. "A doctor. He is...very interesting." he ends this sentence with a quick kiss and adds, "not as interesting as you, of course."

"Mm. Well, don't let yourself get too fascinated. I'd hate for you to forget about me." she leans in for a kiss of her own.

Taubal draws out the kiss and murmurs, "Never. He is interesting, that is all. And he might be useful."

Yadin pulls away and smiles. "I'll see you in a few months, then, loverboy."

"Goodbye, Yadin."

Taubal watches until the doors close and the gangplank retracts. Then he turns and wanders off to the adjacent bay, where his own ship is docked. He has work to do.

 

oOo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment -- I'd love to hear from you!

**Author's Note:**

> If you like the story, please leave a comment - I'd love to hear from you!


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